Guardian Angel
by rainandangels05
Summary: Daryl is Carol's guardian angel. They all knew it. Except him. Rated for upcoming chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N Hey everyone! This is an idea that I have been toying with for a few weeks. I tried to stay as in character as possible, but there is probably a little OOC in this. Sorry about that! I plan on updating new week. Let me know what you think :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Walking Dead. I just borrow their characters :) **

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Carol groaned as she hefted the overflowing laundry basket into her tired arms. She tried not to think about the amount of work that laid between her and when she could finally bed down for the night. Early nights were a luxury that were rarely experienced. There was always something to be done. Stumbling forward, Carol made her way toward the prison to distribute the group's now clean laundry.

Once she entered the cell block, Carol was accosted by Beth who was wandering around looking bored.

"Hey Carol, do you need any help?" Beth asked, eager to be of use.

As Beth took a closer look at Carol she noticed that the woman's face was covered in a light sheen of sweat and underneath that, Carol was very pale. Black rings outlined tired looking eyes and Carol's entire body seemed to be hunched over onto itself. Faint tremors could be seen running up the pale woman's arms.

"Are you okay Carol?" Beth asked anxiously.

"I'm fine, sweetheart." Carol replied quietly, silently wishing Beth would move so she could put the laundry down and give her aching arms a rest.

"No you're not…" Beth insisted "Here, give me the laundry and I'll get it out to everyone. You just go get some sleep." Beth declared taking the laundry easily from Carol.

"It's okay, I have to cook dinner anyway," Carol half heartedly protested. She knew she should do it. Carol was strong. Not weak. She needed to prove she could do it.

"I'll do that too. You do so much. Let me help out…I feel like a burden." Beth almost whispered the last part, shame coloring her face.

Carol looked at the small figure in front of her and saw the same desperation to be of use that she had once felt. Feelings that Daryl had screamed at her for, and feeling that still haunted her.

Knowing that Beth needed to feel useful, Carol let the argument dry in her throat and gave the younger woman a smile, saying "Beth honey, you are anything but a burden. Thank you for helping out." Normally Carol would take a longer time to talk to the young, obviously lost, child. However she found that she just didn't have the energy for such an emotionally charged conversation.

Carol squeezed Beth's shoulder in thanks and began the grueling hike up the stairs to her cell. Every muscle in her body felt weak and shaky. The sun shined through the windows, so bright it was blinding to Caro's watery eyes. If Carol didn't know any better she would say she was sick. But there wasn't any time to be sick in this world.

Once Carol reached her cell she collapsed in her bed and fell asleep instantly.

* * *

Fire. Fire everywhere. Carol could only register the intense heat that consumed her body. Her very bones felt as if they were burning. Carol's muddled brain couldn't process what was happening. Why wasn't anyone helping her? Didn't they see the fire? It was so hot. Carol cried out in the pain of it. Heat wave after heat wave accosted her frail form making her muscles tremble and her eyes roll.

She wretched her arms to her head. She needed to stop the pounding. Except only one of her arms would move. The other was stuck, chained to something up high. Panic crept into Carol's foggy brain. She admonished herself to focus. Focus. Why was she chained to the bed? But it hurt so bad. So bad. Focus.

Her head felt as if it were exploding. And she couldn't stop it. Her arm was still stuck despite her yanking. Warm liquid was not running down that arm, adding to the horror of the entire situation. Voices were screaming, screeching out in the room. They invaded her head and added to Carol's agony.

Suddenly there were loud bangs and the voices dimmed. But only for a moment, rising back to the full cacophonous volume. Someone's hand was on Carol's stuck arm. Terror flood her system. What was happening. Carol desperately shook her head back and forth trying to clear it. Her eyes rolled, she couldn't focus enough to see anything. The hand however just freed her encased arm and lowered it slowly back to her body. Carol wrenched her arm away for the hand and clutched her head. If she just pressed hard enough maybe the pounding would stop. It would go away.

Her stomach gurgled sickeningly and suddenly acid was clawing acid clawing its way up her throat. The hands returned and held her head. The strain of vomiting left Carol panting, hunched over on her bed. Hand supported her frame and moved to lay her back down. Carol writhed, her thoughts muddled and confused by the fiery agony in which she was trapped.

The noise wouldn't stop. It had to stop. Her head swam as she tried to sit up and stop the noise. It was going to kill her. Carol's ears were throbbing as layer upon layer of sound penetrated into her very being. Carol jerked her arms up, attempting vainly to cover her ears and stop the torture.

There was an echoing roar that rang out across the room. Then everything fell silent. Hands were prying Carol's hands off her ears and picking up her limp body.

Carol tried to free herself from her captors. Where were they taking her? Her fever addled mind struggled to process what was happening. Soon Carol could think of nothing but the sickly rocking motion coming from all around her. Her stomach rebelled once again and the motion stopped, only to continue when her stomach had settled and she could breathe again.

Then there was water everywhere. Icy cold quickly replaced the heat with which Carol had been trapped in. Cold liquid assaulted Carol and she shrieked, trying to escape the icy barrage. Hands held her down, keeping her trapped in the torrent of frozen water. Carol cried out again and again, clawing at the unyielding hands.

"Stop it." A deep voice commanded firmly, right next to her ear.

She knew that voice. She would recognize it anywhere. Why was he hurting her like this?

"Stop now." Her desperate attempts to free herself began to slow. Was it him? Or was this a dream?

"That's right. I'm here. It's okay." Her panting slowed down to normal and she desperately tried to find the strength to open her weary eyes. She had to see him. Needed to know that he was real.

"That's my girl." The voice whispered. The restraining hands shifted from holding her down to cradling her against a warm, hard body.

Carol pried her eyes open to stare blearily into Daryl's bloodshot blue gaze. His eyes were filled with terror and anxiety.

Normally Carol would have been immediately alert if she saw that combination of emotions in Daryl's eyes, however she lost to battle to her heavy eyelids and darkness clouded her vision once more.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Hey everyone! I am so so so sorry this took so long. I just moved back into college and it's been rough. I have a lot of classes and work. But enough about me. I hope y'all like it. Please please review! Let me know what you like, what wasn't so great, and all that fun stuff. Thank you everyone!

Disclaimer: Sadly I do not own the Walking Dead. I just play with them.

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Daryl stalked out of the forest, pissed to hell. Those damn geeks had scared all of the game away, leaving Daryl only two measly squirrels. He hated going back to the prison without enough meat. The group all looked raged, especially Carol who was all skin and bones. He knew Carol wouldn't take the meat for herself either. He would have to fight to get her to accept just some of the meager meat he had procured.

"Fuck Dixon, don't be a pussy," Daryl muttered angrily. He didn't owe this group nothing. Yet he knew he did. Despite all his blustering when he was pissed, Daryl knew he would never leave this group. He would never leave her.

"Open the fuckin' gate" Daryl yelled when he had reached the barriers to the prison. What the hell was up with these people? Daryl wondered. Where the hell were they?

A pale faced Glenn rushed to open the gate and stared at Daryl nervously as the dirty hunter entered the prison.

"What?" Daryl snapped. He was in prime form tonight. He was just itching for a fight.

"It's just…well..I don't.." Glenn stuttered nervously under Daryl's hostile gaze. Trying to buy time he made a show of locking the gate and slowly walking back towards the building.

"Spit it out short round" Daryl snarled.

"It's Carol." Glenn's words were rushed, high and panicked. Almost as if he was afraid Daryl was going to hit him. It was a well warranted fear. When it came to Carol, the entire group knew that Daryl was completely unreasonable.

Daryl froze at the quivering man's words.

"What?" he hissed out; praying he had heard wrong.

"She's…well we don't know what's wrong. We think she's sick but they had to handcuff her because she was-"

"What." Despite the wording it was not a question that was hissed through the hunter's clenched teeth.

"Look man, I wasn't there. I did-" Glenn frantically backpedalled as he saw the enraged man before him swell with fury.

"She's fuckin' handcuffed? What the fuck happened?" The redneck yelled. However he gave Glenn no chance to answer as he fell into a sprint towards the prison.

Daryl was equally terrified and outraged about what he had heard from Glenn. What the fuck they cuff her for? Was she bit? Grunting, Daryl picked up the pace, running faster than he ever had towards Carol. He was going to kick someone's ass if they let her get bit. Damn it, he shouldn't have gone hunting for so long. He should have fuckin' been there. He would have saved her. These assholes would sacrifice anyone to save their hide.

As he entered the cell block he could hear voices echoing around the space. It seemed like everyone was up in Carol's business and shouting about it too. Then he heard a sound that stopped his heart and made him catch his breath. Carol. She was screaming in agony. He could barely make out what she was groaning under all the overlapping voices but it sounded like she was hot. No she was screaming fire. What the fuck?

As he ran up the steps, taking three at a time, he was able to make head of the voices and conversations coming from Carol's cell.

"She was fine earlier, I just don't know what-" Maggie, Daryl decided.

"Her fever has risen. We need to cool her off, or-" Hershel was cut off by Rick saying "We need to warn Daryl before he come in here. He would kill us if he saw-"

That was the final straw for Daryl. Saw? Saw what? It had better not be the fuckin' cuffs Glenn had mentioned.

Snarling Daryl stomped to Carol's cell and was frozen by the scene before him. Maggie, Beth, Hershel, and Rick were crowded around Carol's bunk. Hershel was crouched down on his good leg trying to feel Carol's forehead while Beth was vainly trying to pry one of Carol's hands off her forehead. Rick and Maggie were standing off to the side looking on as the old man and daughter tended to the sick woman.

And then there was Carol. She was writhing in the bed. One of her arms was locked to the bed in a familiar set of handcuffs. Carol in her desperation to get free had yanked and pulled on her arm so much that blood was running down her arm. Carol's other arm was clawing at her hair her face, anything she could get leverage on. Her eyes were open but they were vacant, empty. Their blue hues were filled

Daryl barged into the cell, scaring all its occupants. Rick immediately reached for Daryl, trying to restrain him while the others all tried to explain to him what was happening. their voices rose as each tried to over talk the other. Daryl only had eyes and ears for Carol though. So when he saw how she was cringing and trying to escape all of the noise he blew. Daryl wrenched his arm from Rick's grasp and viciously punched the wall.

"What the fuck are you shit heads doing?" The angry hunter demanded.

The group was silent, cautiously staring at him.

Daryl stalked over to the bed and tensely held his hand out in Rick's direction, silently demanding the key to the handcuffs. Once the metal touched his hand Daryl was working on unfastening and freeing Carol's arm. The woman as still convulsing on the bed which scared the shit out of the hunter. As soon as her got her arm free he gently lowered it back onto the bed and watched as she immediately threw the arm up to cover her ears and head. Terror was ripping though Daryl. Had she been bit? He hadn't been gone that long, what the fuck she been doin'?

"She bit" he spat at the others.

It was Hershel who braved further angering the violent redneck.

"No." He began calmly " I believe she has an extreme case of the flu. She was under so much stress and she is so thin that her immune system just couldn't fight it off like she should have been able to."

The flu. Or she was infected. But no one said that. No one dared.

Just then Carol started gagging. Daryl managed to catch her head and position it over the mattress before she started vomiting. Daryl wanted to run. He wanted to leave. The fact that Carol was currently throwing up all over his shoes didn't faze him in the slightest. Vomit was low on the list of things that were disgusted him these days. No, what fazed him was how scared he was about the woman in his arms.

"Daryl we need to get her to the showers. Her fever is dangerously high." Hershel implored, trying to talk sense into the irrational redneck standing before him.

Daryl didn't even spare a glance at the old farmer before her swooped in to scoop up Carol's shivering form. Cradling her gently to his chest, he realized how hot she was. Heat was radiating off of her in waves. The terror rooted in his chest when Glenn had told him began to grow branches spreading sickly tendrils of fear into his very being. Carefully the terrified hunter began moving quickly in the direction of the bathroom.

However before Daryl couldn't get more than ten steps away from Carol's cell the woman was groaning in his arms and feebly moving around. Daryl cast one eye down on Carol before rapidly stopping and lowering her to the ground. But before Daryl could get to Carol's head she was vomiting all over him. Spasms gripped the weak woman as her stomach tried again and again to expel whatever was left in it. Daryl just knelt on the ground with her and let her get sick all over him, all the while wishing he could take her pain away and bear it himself. She didn't deserve to suffer this way. She was too good.

When Carol's stomach had seemingly emptied Daryl cradled her closer to him and stood out of his crouch to continue their trek to the showers. Daryl was distantly aware of the entourage that seemed to have surrounded him and Carol. Maggie was scurrying behind Daryl's right shoulder and Glenn tagged along after her. He had long lost the crippled old man. Who the hell knew where Rick had gone. Probably off finding his kid. Daryl could almost feel Carol fading in his arms .The heat of her skin was becoming unbearable. Grunting, Daryl picked up the pace and was in a flat out sprint as he crossed into the shower room.

Gently the hunter set Carol down so she was leaning against the wall. He hovered for a couple seconds, however when he was sure she was properly supported and wasn't going to fall over he darted over to the shower, adjusting the knobs so it was shooting out water at the coldest setting possible. Wincing sympathetically Daryl moved back to the sickly woman. This was going to be hell for her. The damn water for freezing to him. He could only imagine how badly it was going to hurt her.

When Daryl approached Carol to pick her back up Maggie was there already, stripping the bile covered garments off the semi-conscious woman.

"Daryl, I can take it from here." Maggie said; completely focused on her task.

"Like hell you can." Daryl practically spat.

"Daryl she's undressed.." Maggie began and then trailed off as she finally looked at the hunter's face.

"I don't give a fuck about fuckin' modesty." Daryl spit at Maggie, shoving her arms aside and stripping of Carol's pants himself. He couldn't believe she was seriously trying to keep him away from her. He would go through hell for this woman. Hell he _had_ gone through hell and he was going to fuckin' kick the shit out of someone before they told him he couldn't help her because she was undressed.

Once Carol only had her bra and underwear on, both of which were mercifully free of sickness, Daryl once again hoisted her into her arms and steeled himself to step into the freezing water with her. Sucking in a deep breath, Daryl plunged the both of them into the icy spray and immediately Carol began to scream and squirm in his arms.

Daryl felt like something was breaking inside of him. He struggled to hold her down. He easily overpowered her even on her best days but he was terrified of hurting her more. Daryl settled for clutching her to his chest, effectively trapping her flailing arms between their bodies so she could do no harm to herself.

However in Carol's fever addled mind she didn't recognize she was beat. The woman fought and fought despite being bound by Daryl.

Finally Daryl yelled out "Stop it." Please. Please just stop it.

Carol's fighting persisted.

"Stop now." Daryl was begging. He never begged.

He could feel the tension leaving her body. Relief flooded his system. Either she could hear him; or she simply didn't have the strength to carry on such vicious fighting. He was almost positive it was the second one, but at least now she wasn't in danger of hurting herself.

"That's right. I'm here. It's okay." He knew she probably couldn't hear him. But he had to let her know. She had to know that he didn't know she was sick. He would never have left if he had known. She would never have been locked up. He was supposed to be there for her. He failed her. Like he had failed Sophia. He fucked up, just like always.

Daryl clutched Carol closer to him, trying like hell not to let the terrified sobs escape from his throat. Gently he cupped her closely to him and rocked her.

"That's my girl" He murmured as he felt her relax further into his hold.

Daryl stared at her face and say fluttering of her eye lids. Hope cautiously grew in him as he detected her eyes opening.

As Carol blearily opened her eyes, he stared at her anxiously. When he saw her blue eyes gazing at him he could cry from relief. However, that relief was quickly crushed when he saw the accusation and terror in her eyes. She didn't know what was going on. And she blamed him.

He opened his mouth to explain, no, to beg for her forgiveness. But he was too late. Again. He watched helplessly as her eyes rolled and her eyelids came down, shutting off his view of her pale blue orbs.

Daryl closed his own eyes; wishing he could join her in her blessed unconsciousness. But he couldn't. He had to be strong for her. He couldn't fail her again. He would hold her up when she couldn't do it for herself. And when she could stand again, he would be by her side ready to catch her if she falls.


End file.
